


Victor Zsasz makes a friend

by UnifiedNations



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: A murder puppy, Assassins, Barbara/Tabitha/Zsasz as drinking buddies, Like a puppy, Mad City: Better to Reign in Hell..., Non-Graphic Torture, Non-graphic Murder, Post Season 3 Episode 1, Sid survives, Sort Of, Victor adopts Sid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 04:25:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13605483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnifiedNations/pseuds/UnifiedNations
Summary: After escaping from the mob at Professor Strange's safehouse, Sid bumps into Victor Zsasz in a warehouse where he's carrying out a 'job' and instead of getting murdered, he gets an apprenticeship and a chance to find his friends again.Alternatively:Victor: Hey guys I found this cute murder puppy in a warehouse can I keep it??Penguin, Butch, Fish, literally everyone around: uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh (what the f*ck)(Also Zsasz, Babz & Tabz are drinking buddies and Penguin is an angry boy.)





	Victor Zsasz makes a friend

**Author's Note:**

> Sid is first introduced in Season 3 Episode 1 "Mad City: Better to Reign in Hell..." as one of Fish's gang of Indian Hill victims. He's the skinny androgynous teenager with white hair who I literally fell in love with within five seconds because I have a serious thing for pale androgynous people. A serious. Thing.  
> He and Nancy are taken with Bullock and Fish to where Strange is being protected and they are both killed while serving as a distraction so Fish & Strange can get away which, in Fish's words, BROKE MY HEART.
> 
> So naturally I wrote a fic where he meets Victor Zsasz and more or less gets adopted/taken on as an apprentice.

“No! Please, no, d-aaAAARGH-”

Victor sighed, rolling his eyes.

“I know, I know. ‘Please don’t hurt me, I can pay you, I have a family.’” He turned back to the man he had cable tied to a chair, his screams echoing through the empty warehouse. “Blah, blah, blah. I’ve heard it all before.”

Growing bored of the man’s seemingly tireless screaming, Victor tore a scrap of fabric from the burlap sack he’d tied over his target’s head and shoved into his mouth. The screams turned to whimpers and the assassin sighed.

“Muuuuch better. I’ve had a headache all day.” He hummed, turning back to the small portable table where he’d laid his tools- a small assortment of knives he’d accumulated over the years. “You know when you wake up and your head is just like...” He raised his hands to his head and shook them. “Y’know?”

When all that was replied to him was whimpers, Victor shrugged. 

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just me.”

~*~

Clean-up after a job was easily the most boring part, but sometimes almost therapeutic. This time as he wiped down his knives, he felt something was different. A door on the other side of the warehouse creaked open but when he turned around, no-one was there. 

“… Hello?” He called, withdrawing one of his guns from its holster at his waist. A gust of wind passed him and he turned again, but again, no-one was there. “Man, I really hope the guys at the club didn’t spike me with something… Again...”

This time he heard something- debris skirting across the ground- and he paused, before slowly turning.

A person stood around thirty feet away from him, half hidden in the shadows cast by the broken roof panels and old crates piled up. They were peering around the crates, clearly looking between the hitman and the corpse in the chair.

Victor squinted, leaning forward and holding his gun up. 

“Soooooo you’re not supposed to be here. You’re not here for him, are you? Cus if you are, you’re a bit late.” He gestured at the body, and the blood pool surrounding it.

“I’m not.” Came the whispered reply, as the figure stepped out into the light. They were young, couldn’t be over twenty, with shock white hair standing up on end and grubby pale skin.

“Okay. Cool.” Silence. “You’ve probably gathered, kid, I’m a murderer. This is a murder, here, happening in this murder warehouse.” Silence. “So you might wanna, y’know… skedaddle.” He waves his hands in a ‘shoo’ gesture, which was apparently ineffective as the person stepped closer- then vanished.

There wasn’t much that could shock Victor Zsasz, but albino teenagers who could apparently vanish into thin air was apparently one of the things that could.

“That’s new.” He commented, turning around again when he heard a whoosh of air. The teen had reappeared next to the body and was examining it, not with disgust, but with curiosity.

“Who was he?” 

“A target.” Zsasz shrugged, turning back to pack his knives away. “I don’t usually ask. It makes it more entertaining when they try to tell you about themselves while pleading for their lives.”

After a few moments he sighed, leaning to pick up the bucket of water he’d filled to wash away the blood on the ground. It was an arduous task, going back and forth between the body and the dripping broken pipe at the edge of the warehouse. As he poured the water on the ground, he turned to walk back to the pipe only for a blur of white to snatch it away. 

Zsasz watched in fascination as the teen seemed to materialise at the pipe, holding the bucket under it as it filled.

“So I’ve gotta ask about this vanishing act,” Victor called, attempting to keep track of the white blur as it made its way back to him. “Gotta admit, I haven’t seen it before. And I’ve been around.” He took the bucket as it was offered, emptying it onto the ground.

“My name’s Sid.” Was the only reply before the kid- Sid, hah- took off again. “I was in Arkham.”

“What a coincidence! A friend of mine was in there a while back. So they did some kinda weird therapy and suddenly you’re all zoomy?” Curiosity took a hold of him as he held out his hand for the returning bucket before handing it back after emptying it again. “Hey… are you one of Mooney’s gang?”

Sid stopped halfway on his route to the broken pipe, turning his head and staring somewhere around the vicinity of Victor’s feet.

“I was. Then… I lost them.”

“Huh. Lost as in dead or, y’know, lost lost?” 

“… Both.” For a few moments the only sound was running water. “We were a distraction.”

“We?” 

“Me and Nancy. She was my friend.” Sid moved the bucket away from the pipe but made no move towards Victor again. “There was a mob. I escaped, but I haven’t seen her since… or the others.”

Victor examined the kid standing nearby as the last of the blood washed away. He was thin, gaunt and scrawny and was shivering hard, even in the shelter of the warehouse. He pursed his lips, thinking, before wandering over to the chair where he’d dumped his target’s possessions. 

“Here.” He threw the man’s heavy wool coat- the target must’ve been wealthy, he thought absently- at Sid, who caught it, looking surprised. “It’s cold out.”

“… Thank-you.”

Victor shrugged, 

“It’s not like he needs it any more.” Humming quietly, he rifled through the pockets of the man’s trousers and pulled out his wallet, emptying it of cash before tossing it onto the corpses lap and throwing a lit match over it. The corpse, already soaked in gasoline from his only mildly extensive torture session, lit up like a funeral pyre. 

Victor took a few steps back away from the flames, picking up his knife bag and tossing the table he’d brought onto the fire. The less he had to carry back, the better, especially as he’d have to dump the victim’s car in the river on the way back then walk home.

Speaking of home.

“You got anywhere to stay?” He asked casually, turning away from the flames to face Sid, who shrugged.

“No. Doesn’t matter though, I’m fine on my own.” He’d turned up the collar of the coat and seemed to be trying to disappear into it, the garment at least a couple of sizes too big for his thin frame.

“Mmmmmhmm. You look like a starved kitten.” Victor commented, beginning to walk towards the exit of the warehouse. “Y’know when you see those videos of kittens they pull out of storm drains and stuff? You look like one of those.”

“Your point?” In a blur, Sid was walking beside him (albeit looking like he was about to pass out). 

“Well… you were pretty useful. Clean-up takes forever usually, so as a favour you can crash at my place tonight. If you wanna.” He shrugged, opening the boot of the car when they reached it and tossing the bag of knives inside.

Sid stared at him, half of the teen’s face hidden behind the coat collar. 

“What do you want in return?” He whispered, his image blurring slightly as he prepared to run.

Zsasz shrugged, getting into the drivers seat of the car. 

“Maybe you stick around, help me on a few jobs… maybe I help you find your friend.” That got his attention. “I could use a speedy helper, all of my colleagues are a bit… average. And a lot of them are dead.” As useful as his ‘friends’ were, they tended to die a lot and Sid- a genetically enhanced ex-Arkham experiment who’d survived what was essentially prison, an attempted mob lynching and the streets of Gotham for months- might last a bit longer. 

“You think we could find Nancy?” Sid whispered, stepping closer to the car.

Zsasz shrugged, leaning over and opening the passenger side door. 

“We can try. I know people.” He beckoned and finally, the kid got into the car- and promptly passed out, judging by how he nearly fell out of the seat again. Victor grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back in, awkwardly bucking his seatbelt over him. Safety first.

Unfortunately it meant he ended up carrying the kid home after disposing of the car.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It wasn’t that Oswald didn’t enjoy a good murder. It was just that, as the newest candidate for mayor, word getting out that he wasn’t quite as sane as the people of Gotham thought he was wouldn’t be in his best interests.

Which was why he called Victor Zsasz.

~*~*~*~

Victor watched in amusement as Sid shovelled his third can of cold tinned macaroni into his mouth straight from the can, pausing only to grab a slice of bread on the table and attempt to shove that in as well. There were several empty food packages on the kitchen work surface that hadn’t been there when Victor had left this morning. Or at least, they had contained food.

“You can slow down, you know. The food isn’t going anywhere.” His words were met with what looked like a warning glare and the kid’s hand sneaking out to grab more bread and hide it under the table. “How can you eat that much? I’m pretty sure you’ve cleaned out half my cupboards.”

Sid shrugged, licking crumbs off of his fingers.

“I lived off of nutrient drinks at Arkham, then off of trash on the streets. When you find good food, you take it.” With that, he stabbed a short knife- that Victor recognised from the knife block he reserved for cooking food (he had standards, after all)- into the table and finished off his bread.

“I like that table.” Victor pouted, then smiled when Sid looked at him with fear in his eyes. “It’s fine. Those red stains aren’t ketchup, after all.”

Sid nearly jumped out of his skin as Victor’s phone began to ring, the chirpy tune cutting through the quiet of the basement flat they were in. He glanced at the number on the screen- he was a professional and never saved numbers with names- and smiled.

“Finish up, kid. Looks like we have a job to do.”

~*~*~*~

Sid had never been to a mansion before and his awe at the huge, ageing building was obvious as he and Victor approached the front door. 

“I’ve never seen much point in these big, fancy buildings myself. Give me my basement and a few empty warehouses and I’m happy.” Victor shrugged, ringing the doorbell.

“I’ve never seen a building like this before… apart from Arkham.” He looked up at the turret on the side of the building. “That was bigger, though.”

The door was swung open and the ageing maid stared at them flatly. 

Victor waved one hand, smiling brightly.

It was uncomfortable.

“доброе утро!” He greeted cheerfully, making his way inside. The maid muttered something in Russian back and moved her flat gaze to Sid, who moved to follow Victor. The door was closed behind him.

“What did you say to her?” He whispered, feeling her gaze on his back as they entered the lobby.

“Just good morning. She’s always like that, don’t mind her.” The assassin strolled through the rooms, not waiting for Sid to keep up as the younger man marvelled at the riches surrounding him. 

“Finally!” He jumped as a shout came from the room Victor entered and slowly approached, peering around the door. “What took you so long?!”

“Sorry… I kind of adopted this puppy that was following me around and I had to feed it this morning. It pretty much cleaned out my kitchen.” He shrugged, gaining himself an incredulous look from the short, angry man Sid assumed to be Penguin.

“… A puppy. You adopted a puppy.” Penguin stared at Zsasz in disbelief before shaking his head. “You know what, I’m not even surprised. I have a job for you and I need it done with the utmost discretion, understood?”

“Always. As long as I can take the puppy with me.” Zsasz turned towards where Sid stood behind the door and whistled. He assumed that that was his cue to enter, or maybe there was an actual puppy following that he hadn’t noticed.

“I think it’s probably a bad environment for a puppy-” Penguin began as Sid stepped out from behind the door, slowly approaching Victor. 

“So? Can I take him?” He asked enthusiastically, reaching one hand out and patting Sid on the head, who resisted bolting from the room. It seemed like a joke, but he was starting to realise how weird Victor was.

“I- that- Victor. If that is your idea of a puppy, you need to stop going to The Foxglove.” Penguin rubbed a hand over his eyes before handing a file over to Victor. 

“You know I only go there to recruit.” Victor grumbled as he flicked through the pages. 

Sid edged up to Victor, eyeing up the pages that contained images of someone he thought he may have seen on a TV somewhere. 

“What’s The Foxglove?” He asked quietly, making the other men’s eyes snap to him.

“How old are you?” Penguin asked instead, and he shrugged.

“I don’t know. What year is it?” He challenged, smiling crookedly at the look of confusion on the crimelord’s face. He’d never actually encountered Penguin before, but Fish Mooney had spoken of him fondly and his face was all over the newspapers he had found on the streets.

“I- nevermind. Victor, you explain it to him later. Are you taking the job?” Penguin was getting more agitated, leaning heavily on a cane in one of his hands.

“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmsure yep.” Victor handed the file to Sid, leaning on Penguin’s desk and bringing out his phone. “Tomorrow okay? Babz asked me to swing by The Sirens tonight and we were gonna get fu-”

“Yes, okay, fine.” Penguin sighed, going to the other side of the desk and sitting heavily in is chair. “Just let me know when it’s done.”

“Will do. Y’know if you want to get to Mayor- sorry, former Mayor- James we could always set Babz and Tabz on him again. I never saw it but the box-on-head thing sounded hilarious.” Victor laughed, drawing a confused look from Sid. “I know some guys who could get you another box-”

“Victor, I appreciate the thought but I have a lot of work to do and would appreciate being left alone right now.” Penguin replied, rubbing his forehead and drawing some papers towards himself.

Victor pushed himself off of the desk, gesturing for Sid to come closer. When he did he found himself with an arm slung around his shoulders and being pressed awkwardly against Victor Zsasz’s side.

“No problem, sir. Just remember the box offer-”

“Out.”

“Gone.” Victor spun the two of them around and walked out, passing the maid on the way to the door which slammed behind them.

“So… the box?” Sid asked as soon as he was confident no-one in the house would still hear them. 

Victor’s answering grin was a little disconcerting.

“I’ll get the girls explain it.”

~*~*~

“We’re closed.” Was the only shouted answer they got when they knocked on a grand crystal door. 

Sid and Victor looked at eachother before Victor got down on one knee and began picking the lock. Sid watched closely, impressed when the lock clicked open so quickly and then immediately regretful when the door swung open and two guns were pointed at their heads.

“Ladies!” Victor beamed, putting his arms up level with his head as he stood.

The blonde woman clicked the safety on her gun on and stepped forward, grinning as she air-kissed his cheeks. 

“Victor! I was starting to think you’d forgotten about us.” Both women’s eyes flicked to Sid. “Who’s your friend?”

Victor stepped into the club, past the women who were still staring at Sid. It was starting to make him nervous.

“Barbara, Tabitha, this is Sid. He’s helping me with a few jobs while we try to find someone for him.” He sauntered over to the bar, leaning over it and pulling out what looked like a bottle of wine. “Where we starting?”

“Huh. Usually he doesn’t take his ‘helpers’ around with him. You must be something special.” The other woman- Tabitha- commented, holstering her gun and following Victor. 

Barbara stayed at the door with Sid, staring at him. Her eyes were hard but Sid sensed that there was something lurking beneath the surface of her personality.

“Have we met before? You seem familiar.” She tilted her eyes, running her eyes over him.

Sid shrugged, slowly stepping into the club and hoping she wouldn’t take him as a threat.

“I haven’t been out much in a while.” He replied, watching her face as she seemed to analyse his reply. “I, uh. I was in Arkham for a few years.”

Barbara’s expression completely switched and her face lit up as she linked their arms and practically frog-marched him to the bar.

“Well, we have that in common! I was in there twice. Don’t think I saw you around though...” With one hand she reached up and fluffed his hair. He flinched away slightly, and her face fell a little. 

“I was in the basement.” He whispered, turning when he felt a nudge on his arm and noticed Tabitha holding a glass out to him. She and Victor were on either side of the bar, surrounded by bottles they were using to mix dubious-looking drinks.

“Oh… you’re one of them...” The way she whispered sent shivers down his spine and he almost bolted. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart. We don’t have anything to gain from turning you in-”

“And by the looks of it, Zsasz would shoot us if we tried.” Tabitha interjected from underneath the bar, as Victor grinned and fingered one of the guns at his side.

“As I said, don’t you worry. You’re one of us now.” Barbara released his arm and raised her own in a dramatic fashion. “Welcome to The Sirens!”

~*~*~

“You okay, kid?” Victor whispered, leaning into Sid’s space as the younger man shrunk back into his seat.

“I have never been more scared in all my life,” He whispered back. “And I lived in Arkham for years.”

Barbara cackled as she approached, sitting in the seat next to Sid and taking his face into her hands, surprisingly gently. 

“Shhhhh, it’s fine. Just hold still.” She leaned in, applying a thin line of eyeliner to his eyes. She and Tabitha had gotten the idea when one of them- he couldn’t remember which, everyone was at least slightly drunk- had commented on both how pale he was and how nice his eyes were in the same sentence.

And now here they are.

“Everyone wears makeup in Gotham, it’s a very gender-neutral thing now. Gotta look good while you’re gunning down a room of people.” Tabitha laughed from the other side of the table, lining up a row of shots. Out of all of them, Sid was the one holding it together the most but he mostly put it down to the underlying fear he felt in a room of technically very dangerous people, and the fact that his body processed things so quickly due to whatever they’d done to him at Indian Hill that nothing ever seemed to leave a lasting effect.

“Aaaaand done!” Barbara leaned back to admire her work. “Perfect. Is you hair naturally that colour? I know people who would kill- literally- for that.”

Sid shrugged and went to answer, but Tabitha waved her hand at him and he turned to her instead.

“Hey, uh, Sid? Earlier Vicky-” 

“Don’t call me that,” Victor whined, laying his forehead on the table.

“Shhhh. Victor Zsasz, master assassin and scourge of Gotham-”

“Much better.” 

“Shhhhhh! He said you’re looking for someone.” She seemed marginally more sober than the other two and leaned her elbows on the table.

“I- yeah.” The three others looked at him expectantly. “My friend Nancy. I don’t know where she is or if she’s even...”

“Alive?” Barbara finished, sobering slightly. “That’s rough. What’s she look like?”

Sid thought for a second, trying to remember everything he could. Luckily for him, Nancy was rather distinctive.

“She’s tall. Almost six foot, with long brown hair, usually wears black leather. She has this mask she needs to breath, it’s like...” He covered his nose and mouth with his hands, demonstrating the shape of the mask. 

“Why’s she need that?” Victor asked, leaning his cheek on one hand. After they’d first met he hadn’t asked any questions about who Sid was looking for but he seemed interested now.

“They… they took her lungs out at Indian Hill. She thought they were trying to make something- someone- who could survive without them. They succeeded, but she can’t take the mask off for more than a few seconds now.”

There was silence for a few seconds, it seemed that he’d killed the mood a little.

“You ever kill someone before, kid?” Tabitha asked, looking at him seriously.

Sid nodded, running his finger around the rim of an empty shot glass as a distraction from the heavy mood.

“A few people.”

“And you’ve got no-one looking for you? No police, none of Fish’s gang?” She pressed on, darting her gaze to Barbara.

“No. I think they all think I’m dead.” He replied, reaching over and taking one of Victor’s shots. 

“Good.” He looked up, surprised at Barbara’s careless reply. “Hey, no-one looking for you means no-one looking to kill you. For now.” She leaned over the table and clapped a hand down on one of Victor’s shoulders. “I mean, teaming up with one of Gotham’s most well known assassin’s might blow your cover a bit but hey.”

“We’ll put word out that someone’s looking for a six-foot tall, brown haired, mask-wearing woman. The black leather thing is a bit generic, pretty much everyone wears that-” Tabitha gestured at Victor, who let out an offended noise. “But the mask sounds distinctive. If someone’s seen her, we’ll find out.”

Sid looked between the women and the assassin, hardly able to believe his luck. He’d stumbled upon Victor disposing of a victim and could have easily been his next, but instead he was being helped. 

“Thank-you. Anything I can do to repay you-”

“We’ll let you know. D’you have a phone?” Barbara reached out, making a ‘gimme’ gesture with one hand not holding a wine glass. 

Sid shook his head, then jumped a little as Victor threw his own flip phone at Barbara who caught it.

“He’s staying with me, just gimme a text. Now, my lovely ladies,” He stood, leaning on the wall and checking the time. “I have someone to kill in approximately… twelve hours. It’s been wonderful! Let’s do this again.” He edged past Tabitha, who made no inclination to move and instead smacked his ass when he’d exited the booth.

Sid made to follow and was appreciative when Barbara actually got up to let him pass. She reached out and drew him into a hug, squeezing him tight.

“Get yourself a phone, honey. It’ll be easier in the long run.” She pressed Victor’s phone into his hand and kissed his cheek. “Get home safe.”

~*~*~

In the end it took seven jobs, three torture sessions, and a little bribery before they got any decent leads on Nancy or Fish’s gang of ‘monsters’.

But even then, Sid discovered that the best things can happen by accident.

He and Victor had been offered a job taking out a gang of drug dealers who’d been threatening another that were under Penguin’s wing.

(Sid was also discovering that Victor loved puns and any chance he got to make the younger man groan, he took.)

Victor had gone into the warehouse first via the roof and Sid had crept in through the back door, darting between empty rooms and alcoves as he waited to Victor’s signal. At the noise of a sniper rifle firing and screams, he waited for the large door leading to the main warehouse to bang open and people to spill out before he struck. He sped between men, alternating between jamming a knife in their carotid arteries or in their spinal cords. None of the men reached the exit and Sid halted by a wall, leaning on it and panting lightly.

A shout came from the main warehouse and he recognised it as Victor’s voice, opening the door and stepping back before entering (just in case of stray fire).

“Two men exited through that window, follow them!” Victor ordered, picking up his rifle and going to take the stairs. 

Sid nodded, following the route the other men had taken and jumping through the shattered window. A trail of blood drops lead him down several alleys and into another warehouse, and he drew the two guns he kept at his side (in one of Victor’s old holsters) in preparation.

Kicking open the ajar warehouse door, he glanced in before spotting the bodies of two men on the floor. He entered, guns up, before realising a group of people stood on the other side of them.

And in the centre, in her rightful place,

Was Fish Mooney.

“Fish?” He whispered, lowering the guns and stepping forward, feeling all eyes on him.

“Sid… darling, is that really you?” Fish replied, walking towards him. She stopped about a foot away and laid a hand on his cheek, smiling. “We were sure that you died that night.”

Sid grinned, holstering the guns and laying a hand over Fish’s.

“I’ve been looking for you-” He looked over at the rest of the group, trying to find the one person he’d really been trying to find. “Have you seen Nancy?”

“Sid?” His heart leapt as a filtered voice came from the throng of people and the person he’d been looking for for so long stepped out from behind the others, staring at him.

Without a word he stepped around Fish, speeding towards Nancy and almost knocking her off her feet with a hug.

“I thought you were dead,” He whispered, smiling when he heard a quiet laugh from behind the mask.

“I looked for you, where have you been?” She asked, placing her palms on his cheeks.

Sid went to reply but the door he had entered through banged open again and Victor Zsasz strolled in, rifle over one shoulder and pistol in his spare hand.

“Nice job kid, the boss is gonna be real happy- oh.” Victor halted, taking in the scene before him. “Fish! Long time no see!”

“Victor Zsasz, as I live and breath...” Fish raised a hand and several members of the group stepped forward threateningly.

“Yeah about that, I heard you stopped living and breathing for a while. Well done on the return from the dead thing.” Victor eyed the people advancing on him, going to drop his rifle and pull out his other pistol instead. “I can always send you back if any of your friends step closer.”

Fish held her hand up and the advancing people halted. 

“Why are you here, Victor?” She asked, curling a hand under her chin as he stared at him. 

“He’s- he’s with me.” Sid spoke up, moving to Victor’s side and holding his hands up. “When I escaped the mob I ran into Victor and, and he took me in. He’s my friend.”

Fish laughed.

“Victor Zsasz has no friends. He has… I don’t know what he has.” She replied, looking at him pityingly.

“That’s a bit harsh.” Victor replied, holstering his guns and stepping forward, placing a hand on Sid’s shoulder. “Fish, I like this kid. And because I like him, and because I liked you… I’ll leave you guys alone. All of you. Even if Penguin asks me to hunt you all down again for some reason.” 

Sid turned, surprised, and found himself drawn into a hug from the assassin.

“You did good, kid. Feel free to drop by whenever.” He was squeezed one last time before he was released and felt something drop into his coat pocket. “See you later Fish. Hope you don’t die again too soon.” With that, he sauntered out of the warehouse. 

A few seconds passed as they watched him leave, then a few members of the group moved forward to welcome Sid back. It saddened him to see Victor leave but Sid knew that he belonged with these people, with the other survivors of Indian Hill. 

Once the last person released him from a welcoming hug he reached into his pocket, pulling out a phone identical to the one Victor had used. Programmed into it was a single contact under the name, ‘Master Assassin and Scourge of Gotham’.

Sid smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> The Foxglove is in the first Ogre episode in season 1 I think? Jim goes to Oswald to get a ticket because it’s a very exclusive, high end fetish club that Bullock went undercover to and ended up having to blow his cover because there was bestiality and he couldn’t go through with watching it. I love him.
> 
> I’m saying Sid is in his late teens/early twenties? I couldn’t find his actor’s age online so I’m guessing, but he looks pretty young so I’m having Victor call him ‘kid’ a lot.
> 
> I have no idea what the experiment on Nancy was so I straight up made it up. As far as I know she wasn’t one brought back from the dead and all she shows in the show is being tol and strong. So I took her lungs.
> 
> I'm also planning another fic for this series but it involves characters from season 4 and I'm only five episodes in so that might take a while. Also another completely different series but that involves the same characters so will also take a while -_-


End file.
